


A Crack of the Whip

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Series: Cracks 'verse - All [4]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Belphegor being Belphegor, Dark fic, Flame Active Character(s), Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Exploitation, Implied/Referenced Murder, POV Dino (Reborn), Reborn as Dino's Sun Guardian, Righteous Sky Rage, Shamal as Bianchi's Father, Shamal as Hayato's Father, Side Story, Unconventional Uses for Dying Will Flames
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-11-01 11:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: The third side fic toBetween the Cracks. Reborn and Dino stumble onto evidence of the Estraneo's misdeeds on a training exercise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saj_te_Gyuhyall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saj_te_Gyuhyall/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Between the Cracks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896882) by [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare). 



The second body he trips over makes him throw up. It's older, more decayed. And it's fucking creepy - especially with the way it's posed, and the fact that the size suggests it's a child, rather than possibly being a small adult. He'd thought that the first one had been his tutor trying to psych him out - but this was a little too much. Reborn catches up with him as he's doubled over throwing up everything he's eaten for the last forty-eight hours. The fact that his tutor doesn't kick him or threaten him with Leon, but instead lays a small hand, radiating Sun Flames, on his back, is a really bad sign.

"You have a problem, baka-Dino." Reborn is so serious that he almost doesn't recognise his tutor's voice, and his stomach - already empty, twists painfully. He's a fifteen year old boy. This shouldn't be his problem; this should be a problem for the Vindice, or hell, even the police, but he could already tell from Reborn's tone that even if this wasn't a problem that the tutor had created for him, he was going to be put to work solving it. "A good Boss punishes those that break the rules, and that -" he points at the body, "is definitely breaking the rules."

He can only agree. They're still on lands that his Familigia claims as their own; there had been a moderately successfully farm up here until comparatively recently, and when his father had become sick and insisted that he start taking the reins, he had bargained for reinforcing the "look after the Familiga's kids" rule. If he couldn't escape, he'd damn well see that he at least protected the other children in the area under his Familigia's control.

"Lesson time, Dino." His tutor hops down and pads over to the body, Leon shifting forms. "Your father has given over these lands to you. This is out of Harmony with what you want for them," he doesn't quite follow, but the use of the word Harmony, with it's definite capitalisation is a hint, "so you should be able to do at least _something_ about this." There's two gun-shots and his body relaxes even as his mind holds on to his regrets, the guarantor that this wouldn't kill him. He opens his eyes in Dying Will Mode, and breaths through it. The world is much more brightly coloured, looking through the lens of his Flames. "Now. Tell me what you see."

The little boy - definitely a little boy, though he couldn't tell you exactly how he knew - was familiar, and covered in Flame traces, including the little boy's own Flames. "I've seen him before." He wants to know who broke his Rules. He was still exerting his Harmony onto the Familigia, bringing it into line with his desires, but even his father at his worst wouldn't have permitted - his Flames come easily to his command in this state. They surge, and he blinks, disbelieving his eyes. "Did you know ...?" The scene in front of his eyes is not the one that was actually _there_.

"Dying Will Flames are more than just the weapons of the Flame Familigas, baka-Dino." That was a yes. He tries to memorise all the details of the scene he can see through his Flames, knowing that his body couldn't maintain this state for very long. His tutor poked him. "Out loud, baka-Dino."

He turns sky-orange eyes on his tutor, wincing at the hole in the hitman's Flames where the pacifier rested on his chest, but not commenting on it. The one time he'd asked, he'd gotten a Leon-concussion. "He was a street kid on Mafia Island. That's where I'd seen him before. The man who dumped him here - I recognise him, but I can't place him. But definitely mafioso - and Flame Active." He tries to look closer, feeling his concentration waver as his Flames exhausted themselves. "I'm going to kill them for this, Reborn." That earns him an approving nod, and he folds out of Dying Will Mode, slumping to the floor.

He shuts his eyes, just needing a moment, and listens to his tutor talking to Romario via Leon-phone. He'd need to make arrangements to bury both of the kids properly, and organise his men to root out whichever of the smaller Families thought that engaging in that behaviour on _his_ lands was acceptable behaviour. Everything hurts. and he's not sure how he's going to make it back to the Villa, and Reborn is still speaking, though he's switched language and his tone is angry and frustrated. He feels kind of sorry for whoever his tutor is shouting at, but it's not him, so he succumbs to his body's desire for a nap.


	2. Chapter 2

It's not a very long nap, not with the images his Flames had burned into his mind's eye; the boy had suffered and the imprint on the landscape had shared that with him when he demanded to know. He wasn't going to sleep well until he'd cut the bastard's balls off and suffocated him with them himself; he hadn't thought that was ever a thought he'd have, but there were people for whom it was most definitely the _only_ solution.

He aches less, when he wakes up - with Reborn sat on his chest, trying to talk Leon into turning into a mallet, but the little chameleon refusing - and demands to know what his tutor had found out. The not-toddler is thoroughly amused by the way he's riding his Will, and obliges; not that there is much information to be had. Not useful information, anyway, which leaves him putting on the mantle of the Cavallone and stomping his way through the lesser families until he finds the culprits. He's not sure he minds, actually. But he wishes absently for the Guardians he still hasn't found; this would be easier with back up that would _know_ his Will intimately.

Romario, did, of course, but the others didn't and it made it far harder to keep them all safe (they'd argue that they were suppose to keep _him_ safe, but as far as he was concerned, if he led them into a battle, it was his job to bring them all home again). But Romario would throw a shit fit if he didn't take back up - unless.

"Reborn?" He layers the name with a whole plethora of questions, and an invitation to accompany him in his play at being a Fury. The not-toddler looked thoughtful and he waited - most of the time, the Arcobaleno just watched - until he gave a sharp nod.

"Well done, baka-Dino." There's a warm feeling, like the weight of the Sun on a summer's day, and his eyes widen in realisation of what just happened. "Vengeance is far more fun with company. Now; we have scum to hunt ... why don't you invite Squalo to come and play? And tell him that Viper's welcome, too." Leon slides into the form of a cell phone in his hand, and he's laughing hysterically, not sure he understands what's going on when a loud 'Voooiii' half deafens him.

He manages half a almost comprehensible explanation before there's a cool voice demanding to be handed to Reborn; the two Arcobaleno hold a short discussion, and then there is a rip in reality and Squalo, a blonde kid wearing a crown, and what can only be another Arcobaleno step through.

The blonde stays with the Arcobaleno he assumes is Viper, but Squalo, his old school friend, kneels next to the corpse, doing something with his Flames. He eyes him with incredulous eyes, the dark blue of his Flames when he looks up. "I underestimated you Bronco; I want the whole story once we've killed this scum - and I'm doing this for free; some things are beyond the pale. Mammon?"

"Agreed, Captain. Did you find enough of a trace?" Squalo raises his hand and there's something, dark and tangled in the palm.

The Mist Arcobaleno floats across, and that technique is revolting. But effective, apparently, and the Storm giggles in a way that makes his skin crawl. "Shishishi, can I kill them all?"

"Not until the nice Sky gives you permission, Belphegor. They might have more live victims. Cavallone, I'll need a safe place for us to 'port to on your estate; while I know where we're going to find the first of our prey, I can't 'port blind." There's a pout on the Mist's lips as they admits that.

"He's my Sky, Viper. Your oath that you won't take a contract on him? I'm not allowing you on the estate otherwise." His tutor - his _Sun_ \- radiates lethality from his place on his chest.

"Consider it repayment for not telling the others where I am, _Renato_. Cavallone, a detailed memory of somewhere unlikely to be occupied, please." He thinks of his bedroom, of the mess he left it in that morning, the vase of flowers he'd knocked over; none of the maids tried to tidy it, not anymore, not with Reborn's booby-traps everywhere. The little Mist floated over and there was a cool hand pressed to his forehead, and another tear in reality formed behind them.

Only one thing breaks as he stumbles through, before Reborn followed him and the tear closed; and he suddenly was able to move around without breaking anything. He was tempted to glare at his new Sun; there was amusement floating over their bond, and he'd _known_ that his tutor knew how to remedy his clumsiness.

"Go find Romario, baka-Dino; and tell him what's going on." He rolled his eyes and tugged on the bond to his right hand. By the time he'd led them out of his suite - without tripping, funnily enough - Romario had slipped out of the shadows to his right; he took in the look on his young Sky's face and the Varia assassins trailing him, and demanded an explanation. When he had, his right hand sent men off to retrieve the bodies, and ushered them all down to the car pool; they'd be best served by a marked vehicle; one of the Familiga’s underbosses needed _disciplining_.


	3. Chapter 3

The limousine is perhaps a little ostentatious, but it's also large enough for the five of them, has the Familiga crest on the door and has half an armory under the backwards facing seat. He rolls his eyes at the outriders, though.

He's also annoyed when they're stopped just before they leave the core Cavallone lands by a motorcycle messenger. If his father - the messenger kisses the floor of the limousine once he's opened the door, and what the _hell_?

The Ring holding shut the scroll held out to him answer his question. It's the most 'casual' use of the Cavallone signet ring - the four hundred year old ring, with its large piece of Amber and it's intaglio of one of the stallions from which they took their name - he's _ever_ seen. He's not even been allowed to _touch_ it prior to this.

He hesitates before taking it; he might be going to 'discipline' one of their underBosses, but he's not sure he's ready for what it represents. Including the implicit admission from his father that he _couldn't_ run the Familiga anymore.

The Ring is warm to the touch, shades of nine other Sky Flames curled in the depths of the intaligo; he slips it onto the ring finger of his non-dominant hand, and there's an out rush of breath from those around him as it settles in place. (He's slightly creeped out by the way it resizes itself.)

"Congratulations, Cavallone Decimo. Seems your _family_ likes your Will." Reborn sounds amused and he's not sure he wants to know what would have happened if they hadn't. His tutor tells him anyway. "Just as well; I'd hate to have to deal with a Flame haemorrhage and Talbot when I broke one of his masterpieces." The Sun - _his Sun_ \- kicks the messenger out of the vehicle with a terse. "Tell the old Boss the ring accepted his 'no-good' heir." He face palms, already adjusting to the weight of the new Ring on his finger and his Flames and Squalo snickers at them both.

The underBoss they're going to see turns green, and then tries to shoot him when he steps out of the limousine. Except he has two Arcobaleno with him, and goes from calm to _Raging_ between the clicking off of the safety and the first shot and Reborn - a far better shot - has spent the last two years teaching him to duck or face the consequences. Admittedly his tutor's version of consequences is awkward public nudity, but that's a fate worse than death when his tutor inflicts it on him in front of classmates that he has has a crush on, and means that he's tucking into a roll and his Flames flaring to incinerate the bullet even as Mammon wraps the idiot in tentacles.

The Idiot's minions still abruptly when Belphegor steps out of the limousine, knives in hand, followed by Squalo, Mammon and Reborn. "Shishishishi can I kill them all now?"

"Not until I've interrogated him, Belphegor. For all the interesting things that Flames can do, necromancy is not one of them." Partial lie, purrs his intuition, but he pushes that to one side, and presses his Will on the man in front of him.

"One of your men killed a little boy up in the hills six weeks ago. Bring him to me, and I _might_ let you live."

"This is about that little piece of trash. He was useless; not even a good -" the underBoss goes up in Flames at the admission he'd known about what had happened. The smell of burning flesh is nauseating, but he swallows and steps past the human torch.

"Belphegor? Kill _all_ the men." The Storm laughs creepily and bounces past him, knives out and flying, Flames disintegrating every bullet that heads his way. The eight year old is _fast_ and broken in the head, and by the time he's entered the manor house, there's an ocean of blood and cowering serving women and the Storm's cackling can be heard from upstairs. "Squalo, would you stand guard while I _claim_ this place? Reborn, I need your _help_."

"No you don't baka-Dino. You made the jump earlier; just do it _again_." He scowls at his tutor/Guardian, but reaches for the Sky Flames Raging at his core. They come easily to his call, and the whispers of the imprints in the Ring come with him, and Reborn is _right_. He catches fire, and there's a small hand on his trousers, and Flames _roll_ out from him until he's kneeling, gasping on the floor, and his Sun is patting his cheek. "Told you so. Now what did you _find_ baka-Dino?"

"There's two boys downstairs. In a cell? They're Flame Active. Maltreated. Mammon, please make sure Belphegor _only_ kills the men. But if he could kill them _even_ harder, that would be good." The floating Mist grins, amusement clear and tears a hole in reality straight to the Storm, who had a couple of men cornered upstairs. "Squalo, could you round up the women and children and make sure none of them do anything Stupid? Feel free to kill the culprit if they do." The swordsman salutes him with a grin on his face. "We get the fun job, Reborn. Time to find out what's going on."

He's never been so grateful for the Arcobaleno being toddler sized as when he walks into the area of 'holding' cells in the basement. The two children curled up in a pile of straw shy away from him, but allow Reborn close enough to check that they're unharmed. Once he has, they do let him closer, and he's never been so glad that he doesn't _look_ fully grown yet - or that he's a Sky. Something about his Flames calms them down enough that they answer the one or two questions he dares to ask.

The Mist Arcobaleno joins them with Belphegor, who is grinning and coated in blood, and who goes wide eyed when he sees the two other boys, who stare at him equally wide eyed, Flames seeping into their eyes to match the ones in Belphegor's. "Shishishishi. The Prince needs minions. You will make excellent minions for the Prince. The Prince killed them all for you."

"Mou. I'm charging you for this, Cavallone." The little Mist floats up to his shoulder, and assumes a similar perch to the one Reborn uses.

"How much are you getting for supervising Belphegor?" The little Storm, still covered in blood has bounced into the holding cell with the other two boys, who are leaning into him like they're starved for affection.

The Mist names a surprisingly small figure - one that makes Reborn snort with laughter. "He's been helping you pull pranks and source blackmail material, hasn't he, Viper." Their answer is a smirk. "And him having two minions will just make him more effective, not less. Take the offer, Dino. The results will at least be amusing."

He rolls his eyes, but offers the Mist his hand to shake.


	4. Chapter 4

"Cavallone." He jolts awake, and tries to bring up his Flames in response to the almost familiar voice. Then the combination of the voice and Flames registers, and he realises that the intruder is Mammon, which shouldn’t be comforting give the Arcobaleno was the Mist Officer of the Varia, but he also remembered the oath Reborn had extracted from them, and he relaxes. An amused sound comes from the direction of the little Mist. "Impressive reflexes." They floated over to the end of the bed and perched on it, and their companion shifted back to its base form. "Chikusa, the young Electric Rain that we rescued last week finally let a little more information slip."

"Oh?" He struggles upright in bed, grateful that he hadn’t gone to sleep nude the previous night.

"There were two experimental subjects that were used as ‘examples’ to make them behave. Mostly they were referred to by their designations - the Demon and the Hurricane - but he did learn their 'actual' names. The Hurricane is apparently a Falco, and the other one was one of the Estraneo Heirs.”

He hissed and scrambled out of bed, going straight for the set of clothes that Leon had made for him after Reborn had become his Sun. The little Mist's lips curved into a delighted grin at the sight of him reaching for what was effectively light armor, reminding him that the Mist had _chosen_ to join the Varia. "We'll start with the Falco. While I doubt they are the culprits, given their ‘public’ specialisms, there's been no grand hunt for a missing heir - and given their inheritance rules he has to be one to have the surname."

"Mou. And I've been hearing rumors about the Falco heiress. I'll be amused to see if they're true." He pulled an undershirt on. "If she has manifested poison cooking, and Don Falco hasn't sought out training for her ..."

"Mammon, I'm up and I'm preparing for war, which I assume was your intention. And despite Reborn’s attempts to turn me into an exhibitionist, I have no desire to show you my cock, so go wake the demon up, please." The little Mist made a choking sound and then there was another ripple of their Flames and he heard Reborn swearing from the ante-chamber and pulled on clean underwear and shimmied into the leather pants, and wondered - not for the first time - who Leon was trying to pimp him to. He'd seen less revealing clothing on the Family's fireflies. At least the shirt and jacket weren't as bad, and the pants did have a loop for his whip and were easy to move in.

He stepped out into the antechamber of his suite to find the two Arcobaleno chatting. "Mou. Were you _fantasizing_ when Leon made that, Reborn?" Mammon’s response to the leather pants amused him, and his Sun spluttered indignantly.

He raised an eyebrow and mentally filed that thought away. "Moving swiftly on. Is anyone else joining us for this surprise visit to Don Falco?"

"Squalo and Bel are standing by with two squads, _but_ as Bel's in a killing mood we decided that it was best to only bring them when there was killing that needed to be done." He slipped his feet into the armored boots and his arms into his jacket, and that completed the Leon-crafted set of clothing. He stretched and then picked up a knife bracer and fastened it to his non-dominant arm.

A Mist passage opened in front of him, and the two Arcobaleno leapt up onto his shoulders. He hesitated, and Mammon murmured "time is money," in a flat voice.

"I know, I know." He stepped into the passage, and swallowed; he was still getting accustomed to travelling this way. It took an incredibly strong Mist to open a passage, and you had to trust them, too, that the passage would take you where you wanted to go; most Skies didn’t even trust their _own_ Mists enough to make use of the skill. The passage delivered them into a section of scrubby woodland that - if it was _his_ territory - was far too close to the rather ostentatious castle that was the seat of the Falcos. "Now did either of you have a plan, or are we just causing mayhem until Don Falco gives us what we want to go away?"

"I vote for mayhem." He mentally face palmed at his Sun.

"Of course you do. How has no one noticed you're so damned Misty, Reborn?" His Sun preened at the compliment.

There was a flare of Flames from the Mist perched on his shoulder, and then the little Mist spoke. "Mou. One of this troublemaker's former proteges will be with us shortly."

"Already here, actually, Mammon; I was just about to break back in to check on Bianchi." He recognises the man who just dropped from one of the trees, and raises his Flames to form a thin skin to prevent one of his mosquitoes from biting him. "Good reflexes kid, but given you've managed to ‘catch’ my chaotic former mentor, I'm not surprised."

"We've had word of someone you've been looking for, Trident Shamal." He and Reborn both stiffen at the little Mist's statement, as does the assassin-doctor in front of them. "Mou. You didn't think I wouldn't notice, surely? Between you and Tsuyoshi Yamamoto, the number of contracts I am currently overseeing has dropped by two-thirds, and the numerous panicked inquiries as to whether there's a contract on any given individual have been very amusing."

"Point." Shamal scrubbed his face with his hands. "The youngest Falco ‘ran away’ four months ago. He hasn't been seen since. But Lavinia made me his godfather, and I _know_ he's still alive. I just can't find him. And his gods-be-damned father doesn't give a flying fuck that his son is missing."

"And he's _definitely_ not in _there_ somewhere?" He has to ask, though he doubts that Trident Shamal of all people would have missed the boy’s presence.

"I've searched the castle from top to bottom, and _all_ of the known holdings. And all of the Family's Allies holdings, and -" Shamal reeled off a list of other places he'd searched and he cross-checked them with his own mental checklist "- his older sister is frantic. She's an Active Stormy Mist, and she has poison-cooking as her default manifestation of those Flames. Of course rather than _tell_ her that and teach her how to control it, Don Falco has been feeding it to various people, including civilians. She's angry and traumatised and she's not going to believe that her father didn't use her cooking to poison her brother until she sees Hayato in person."

"Mou. There are two poison-cooking specialists in the Varia who could help her with that." The assassin-doctor looked relieved.

"Can we leave her here, safely, or does she need to be removed _now_?" He suspects not, given that Shamal had already been in the process of breaking in.

"There's a dinner party tonight, so it should be today - her body count is already up to thirty-two, and she's not dealing well with that, nor with the crawling suspicion her father fed her food to her baby brother and killed him with it." He winces. That _was_ bad.

“Mayhem it is then. I’ll go play distraction, you steal the Stormy Mist?” Mammon’s lips twisted.

“I will accompany you. You’re more likely to need reinforcements, and Shamal is perfectly capable of sneaking out of the castle with his daughter.” The little Mist had delivered the words in a deadpan tone. The doctor-assassin looked like someone had slapped him with a wet-fish.

“How did you -”

“You were scouted for the Varia. We _investigated_ , and your Flame signatures are too similar for her _not_ to be yours. We couldn’t get close enough to the younger one to check.” He bit his cheek to avoid laughing at the expression on Shamal’s face. “Your ‘cover’ was excellent, but not good enough to keep the Mist _Arcobaleno_ from noticing. Two cuckoos by two different women in one nest, Trident Shamal; wasn’t that a little _careless_?”

Mammon was clearly having _far_ too much fun, and hmm, didn’t that leave the current Don Falco heirless? Though he could see why the man might be willing to ignore the unusual Flames for his Family in favour of the prestige attached to his heiress being Flame Active and deadly in her own right. Even if her being capable of poisoning a man with a kiss or a touch would have made selling her off far harder.

… how the hell was the man still in power? He was sat _right_ in front of the castle’s gates, halfway to completely suborning the Falco territory before anyone even _registered_ that he was there. He _twists_ the Flames, reaches, and then he’s won, and he leans left, lazily, as the guard who has only just noticed his presence tries to shoot him, but he’s in Harmony with the territory, has it all at his fingertips, and there was an amused Mist on his shoulder as well; he wasn’t going to be hit by a mundane round. “Mou, that skill is going to _terrify_ the other Dons into actually training their Flames when they realise what it could mean.” A gentle trickle of Flames merged into his Reserves. A transfusion; not a bond - the Mist was already bonded, he assumed to Xanxus?

Not that it matters; he trusts the Mist enough to sink all the way into his Flames until he and his surroundings are one and the same. He makes a beckoning gesture, a physical gesture to focus his mind and the doors open; there’s a choking sound from the location of the guard who has been attempting to shoot him. There’s the vaguely familiar man in the hallway beyond them, and he and his men point weapons at him. Except this is his territory to manipulate now, and his Flames are decidedly Misty from the 'transfusion’, and they’re all encased in stone much like that of the floor they’re standing on almost before he’s thought of them as a threat. He’s not sorry, not with the memories the territory is feeding him. “Don Falco?” The mostly encased Don nods. “Most of this could have been avoided if you’d done two things. One, using your pre-teen daughter to poison people _without telling her_ was a shitty idea - and two, if you’d _told_ your allies, which includes my father, that your son was missing, we _might_ have caught what the fucking Estraneo were apparently doing _before_ it got this far.”

Mammon tilts his head and then murmurs a soft “they’re out” in his ear.

He looks back at the encased Don. “Reborn’s set some traps, and I’ll release the territory when I’m well clear, but you might want to spend some time actually reinforcing your hold on your lands and your Family, Don Falco. I wasn’t expecting _that_ trick to work on another Don’s home.”

Mammon takes Bianchi _straight_ back to the Varia with Shamal - the pink-haired pre-teen looks relieved that she’s going to get training in how to use - and _not_ use - her gift rather than her father using her to poison a random selection of visitors to their castle - and he returns to the Villa and collapses face down on his bed fully dressed and cuddling Reborn. The Sun Arcobaleno tuts at him, but he was too tired after the trick he’d pulled on the Falco castle to care. His Sun was warm, and radiating Flames at him, and had yet to hit him with a Leon mallet, which meant he couldn’t be that bothered by being used as a teddy bear. A nap, and then they could do this all over again on the _actual_ target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, hopefully I've managed to get back into my groove for this 'verse; I had some things I was dealing with in real life that made the plot bunny scarper for a few months, and I appear to have finally tempted it back.


	5. Chapter 5

The first raid on one of the Estraneo bases leaves him _raging_ , and Squalo with the sort of hard glittering edge to his Flames that told him _exactly_ how well his school friend had taken to assassination. They hadn't brought Bel with them, though Squalo had had a squad of Rains backing him up, because they needed information, not just corpses and after Chikusa and Ken, the Storm’s response to the mere _mention_ of the Estraneo was to start killing. They take a second and a third, jumping from one to another via Mammon's Mist passages, and even if they should have been looking for information they slaughter the occupants of the third base before they call it a day, because what they've found in the other two - they don't have any mercy left. (The only reason that they can get away with it, is that the small bases operate separately, with only intermittent face to face contact between the cell leaders, and overwhelming them with Sky and Rain Flames mean they don't even think to get warnings out.)

They leave the largest base for the next day. It's out in the sticks, in what most thought to be the abandoned Estraneo territory, and the information they've found at some of the other bases suggest that it’s the one most likely to have a largish number of _live_ children - including the ones designated as the Hurricane and the Demon - present. Given how one of the children that they'd found had gone for Romario's throat - Reborn had healed his Rain easily enough, but it wasn't a risk he was willing to take, not when one of the others might hurt one of the children in order to save themselves - he'd ordered his men to stay behind, to be ready to come in and clean up afterwards. There were several Varia squads intended as backups, complete with transport capable Mists if they needed them. Without Romario and his other core, adult bodyguards, that left him, Squalo, the two Arcobaleno and Belphegor for the first 'strike'. They were all heavyweight Flame Users - he'd started off the weakest of the five, but having Reborn in his Harmony was definitely Activating _all_ of his potential - he’s more than capable of physical manifesting their Flames and using them for area effects now.

With _everything_ organised for the morning, and his Flames completely exhausted from combat and keeping the few experimental subjects that they’d found calm - especially after one of them had gone for Romario’s throat - he pouts at both his Sun and his Rain until they both agree to share his oversized bed with him overnight. He wants them both within reach when he wakes up from the nightmares about what he’s seen today. At least repeatedly pushing himself to his limits and well beyond them seemed to be deepening his reserves at an exponential rate.

He is - slightly - embarrassed when he wakes up with his nose buried in Reborn's hair and with Romario plastered to his back, but there's nothing sexual about it; they're in such tight Harmony right now that skin contact is just them grounding each other. "Espresso, baka-Dino. Or stay still and let me go back to sleep."

"There can be Espresso if we get out of bed, Reborn." He coaxes, and wheedles, and his newest Guardian whines, and it's adorable. With Reborn temporarily placated, he crawls out of his bed; he's going to insist that Romario stays in it today though. The image of his Rain bleeding from his throat was going to stick in his head for a _very_ long time, and he was going to baby his Right Hand for as long as he was allowed to get away with it by the man.

"Carry me." His Sun is adorable and _almost_ looks like the toddler he _definitely_ isn't with that pout, and holding his arms up.

"You're shameless." But he scoops up his newest Guardian, and Reborn wriggles until he's comfortable in his arms.

"Of course I am. I haven't even come close to being part of a Sky’s set since Luce di Giglio Nero and I'd forgotten how much Harmony helped with the curse." His Sun concentrates, and there's a dark blue Flame wreathing his fingers. "See? I haven't had access to that since before -" Reborn trails off, and he shakes his head in amusement; he hadn't been entirely serious when he'd accused his tutor of being Misty. But of course he was. He carries his Sun downstairs; there'll be espresso around _somewhere_. He does nearly drop Reborn when he walks in the breakfast room and finds Squalo sprawled in one of the chairs, wearing what _might_ pass at first glance for civilian clothing, but was definitely at least as Flame resistant as his Varia uniform, and almost as well fitted as his own Leon-crafted gear.

"Mmm. I might have to take breakfast here, more often, Bronco; your men do a good spread, and I don't have to deal with the others being 'solicitous' here." His brain finishes processing the delightful image in front of him, and reboots; he finishes his journey to the espresso machine that Romario had installed in the room to help with appeasing the demon that was pre-caffeine Reborn, and placed his Sun in front of it. He didn't dare operate it himself; the consequences of breaking it were well established.

"baka-Dino is cruel making me make my own espresso." His Sun pouts at him, and he wavers, but if he does break the machine, Reborn will shoot him, and he’ll spend ten minutes running round the estate in Dying Will mode, and with the attack on the final base planned that would be a waste of resources.

"Do you _really_ want to shoot me this morning, Reborn?" The Sun shakes his head.

"Go flirt with Squalo, baka-Dino." He retreated to the table before his Sun could say anything worse, and concentrated on feeding himself without doing anything embarrassing. He was still getting used to the 'I am less clumsy around my Guardians' thing, and he was going to get his revenge on Reborn at some point. Even if he had to enlist Mammon’s help.

"I suspect you're going to regret bonding him almost as much as the Boss regrets bonding Mammon when he's being a complete miser." Regrets, not regretted. And Squalo still _feels_ bonded, even if the more active traces of Xanxus's Flames were fading from his, so the Wrath Sky wasn’t dead. It was a puzzle; Xanxus hadn't been seen publicly for months. He hadn't been kidnapped too, had he?

He bites his lip. There are two ways the question he wants to ask _could_ go, and there _would_ almost certainly be Estraneo scum to aim the Rain at, so he _probably_ could ask the question reasonably safely. "Squalo, where's Xanxus?"

The cup in the Rain's hand shatters, as if Squalo had squeezed it too hard, and Reborn's head snapped around from his coffee machine. "Where _is_ Xanxus, Squalo? I offered to track him down for Timoteo after he vanished, but he said that it wasn't necessary."

"He's in the basement of the Iron Fort, frozen in a block of inverted Sky Flames." The Rain's voice is flat. "Hostage to the Varia behaving, and staying aligned with the Vongola." He winces and decides not asking _why_ is the better part of valour, but the Rain continues _anyway_. "The Boss was trying to prove a number of things, and his father wasn't listening. In hindsight, we should have called him on the plan, but you know the saying, and just how potent Sky Flames can be; they've got to be the only thing to have kept your father in command of your Family when he got sick. You certainly couldn't have taken command two years ago, Bronco, and the Cavallone would have splintered into smaller Families without a Sky who could keep your sub-Bosses in line."

"Ouch. I almost regret asking, but I'd just had this horrible thought, and I had to be _sure_ that we weren't going to find him in Estraneo hands." Squalo shudders.

"I didn't think you could come up with a worse scenario than the one I was living with, Bronco. I'm not sure whether to thank you or curse you for putting it in my head." Squalo scowled. "But I have seen him in the damned ice, so I _know_ he's there."

"Putting that aside, when are we expecting Belphegor and Mammon?" It’s a weak tactic, but he’s not sure he wants to know more about what’s going on with the Varia _right_ now. Not if it’s going to make him rage against the Vongola Sky on Squalo’s behalf.

"In an hour or two. I rode over because Lussuria was being ridiculous; my bike's downstairs in the garage." His brain hiccups again at the thought of Squalo on a fast motorbike. It's a _very_ pretty mental image, and one that he'll treasure."I thought we'd discuss strategy -" Did he just see his school friend _preen_? "- since I just took over as the strategy captain. The former one was ready to retire. And having the Sky involved in any combat read in _always_ helps, because they can influence people far too easily by accident, and having them do it consciously instead is useful."

"True." He picks up one of the pastries from the basket on the table and pulls it apart before nibbling on it. "So what's the plan, other than rescue the kids and kill all the idiots?"

"That was pretty much the plan. The 'advanced' version was that we walk in, make it look like a supervised Sky-Guardian 'date', and the kill every one of the bastards. Then get the kids somewhere safe, and try and help them back to something like normality, or into safe-ish positions in our world if need be." Squalo leaned back in his chair, and sipped his coffee.

"Simple. I like it. Are you up to flirting with me like that, given -" He trails off, not wanting to touch that particular nerve right now.

"- I wouldn't have suggested it, Bronco." There’s a peculiar note in Squalo’s voice.

He's not sure whether that's an invitation to actually flirt, or if it simply is a strategy; he's caught appreciative looks at him from the swordsman over the last few weeks, especially when he's been wearing the leather pants Leon had crafted for him. He shoves the thought aside; they have a plan and a mission and whether Squalo is as good with _every_ sword he handles is something he can _perhaps_ discover later.

"Oh I am." Fuck, did he just say that out loud? "But that can wait for later, Dino. I have my own 'questions'."

"You can try and bed the pretty swordsman later, baka-Dino." His Sun leaps up onto the table and steals the last of the pastries before he can grab it.

Both of them twitched at the reminder that they had an audience, and return to their own breakfasts; one of Mammon's tears in reality opens, moments later. "Shishishishi. You promised the Prince people to kill, Mammy. But the Prince only sees the Captain, and the Cavallone Heir and the Sunny Demon, and the Prince isn't allowed to kill any of them."

"Belphegor, I said there _would_ be people to kill. Not that there were going to be people to kill _immediately_." Mammon sounded vaguely put upon, and he got up, and went to the fridge to retrieve the bowl of strawberries he'd had Bono cover and put in there, just in case. "Thank you, Cavallone." The little Mist takes the bowl, and floats over to one of the Arcobaleno sized chairs that all of the older, more established families have. "Eat something, Bel."

The nine-year old Storm snatches up a plate, and serves himself a _very_ protein heavy, northern European style breakfast, and he wonders - again - which of the dispossessed European Royal Families the Storm Officer belonged to. He was leaning towards him being a Romanov; it wouldn't certainly explain some of the blonde’s insanity. "Another hour, and we'll be heading out, Prince Belphegor; this is a far larger base than the others. There might be a dozen children there, and at least as many scientists, and an appropriate number of guards."

"Shishishishi. The Prince will be patient." Minutes went past while they all ate their breakfast, and then Squalo pushed his plate away.

"Are the squads ready, Mammon?" The question comes from the Rain, but he pays attention anyway.

"If they're not, then they will each be fined €100.000." Both he and Squalo roll their eyes at the Mist.

"I'll take that as a yes. Right. Bono _should_ be waiting for us with the limousine, and we'll be on our way." The vehicle is on the forecourt, and they all pile into it, checking weapons and maps and doing what little they could to prepare.

He and Squalo flirted half heartedly with each other; it was a necessary ruse, and he _wanted_ it to be real, at least on a sexual level, but given what they were searching for, he _couldn’t_ put his heart into it. They were wandering slowly, along the footpath that wound its way up to their insertion point when there was the single most enormous flare of Sky Flames he’d _ever_ felt and a highly ominous rumble. He and Squalo looked at each other, and then Reborn leapt up onto his shoulder, and they raced in the direction of the flare, no longer caring about their disguise.

What they found was _astonishing_. Most of what had been a small hill according to the satellite images and maps that they’d studied had collapsed in on itself. “Christ. Could _you_ have done that, Bronco?”

He didn’t answer immediately, too interested in reading the area, and then a smile curved his lips. “Not sure; I seem to be better at ‘stealing’ territories. But it looks like the children may have beaten you to killing the remaining Estraneo; I think you’re going to _like_ this group, Belphegor.”

Squalo’s head snapped round, and his posture shifted, growing more relaxed, and attentive, far more the Element seeking inclusion within a Sky’s set than assassin. “We’ve got company. And company with a sword that I really, really want.”

“Of course you do.” His rejoinder was automatic, but he reciprocated Squalo’s actions and Belphegor slipped back, with Mammon on his shoulder, and Reborn took up position a few meters away.

“He’s over -” he can feel Squalo concentrating, “- there.” Sure enough, only moments after the Rain had indicated the general direction, he spotted the slim, dark haired figure pushing through the undergrowth, a sword sheathed across his back.

“Mammon.”

The little Mist vanishes and the swordsman across the huge pit flinches as reality tears open behind him. "Mou. You've cost me money, Autumn Rain.” He’s amused that sound leaks back through the tear.

"If I'd accepted money to kill them, Mammon, I'd apologise for poaching from the Varia; but as I was trying to find my kidnapped son-" The newcomer speaks, and there’s a definite accent to his Italian, but he’s struggling to identify it.

"Hmph. I'll be keeping the contract fees." There’s obviously no threat from the older swordsman, and he and the others step through the tear, joining them on the opposite side of the pit.

"You're the would be Sword Emperor?" The man - Romario’s age - blurted the words out, and he was thoroughly amused by Squalo’s response. His school friend’s Flames bristled, and he had to be imagining that secondary, but it _would_ explain a lot if he wasn’t. He shoved that thought to one side, and concentrated on Autumn Rain; he felt exhausted, but driven, and the sword was as ‘loud’ as the Ring on his finger could be.

"Voooiii! Who's asking?" He smacks Squalo before the man could finish reaching for the sword on his back; they may have all psyched themselves up for combat, but that didn’t mean he was going to allow Squalo to pounce on strangers that _weren’t_ an active threat. "Voooiii. What was that for, shitty Sky?"

"Your Mist Officer greeted him by Name, Squalo. Play nice." Squalo rolled his eyes at him. "I'm assuming from what he just said, he's a parent of one of the children that they took. Am I right?" He saw the tick, and put it together with the accent, and that was going to cause chaos; he was just glad that he’d had _spoken_ Japanese beaten into him by Reborn over the past two years. "I once was known as the Autumn Rain; but my name, young Cavallone, is Tsuyoshi Yamamoto. And yes; they took my son. A Mist wearing an illusion of my form stole my son from his baseball practise three and a half weeks ago." He winces; fuck, that was _brazen_. It meant that either they’d done their research and _deliberately_ taken the son of a retired Flame Active assassin, or they were just snatching kids that interested them almost at random.

"Voooiii. Mammon's not my Mist Officer." He wants to facepalm; he felt the tiny flare of Sun Flames that preceded Leon shifting forms, and counted down to the blow. Fortunately not to his skull, but rather to Squalo’s. "Voooiii. Call off your shitty Sun, Bucking Horse." Autumn Rain - Tsuyoshi - eyes him with more interest and he barely manages to avoid groaning. He really was going to have to prank Reborn for the chaos he’d brought into his life.

“I found a partially obscured trail. The Flame traces suggest a new Sky and at least one and possibly two full sets with him. We were discussing the best approach to tracking them; one of the children that we found yesterday almost tore my adult Element's throat out; Romario's still recovering. Squalo and I are about as old as can be around the children rescued so far without them attempting to repeat that - it's why our little hunting party is as small as it is, much to my men's annoyance." He’s babbling slightly, but the adult Rain has a son who has been in Estraneo hands for longer than he wanted to think about.

"Ah. From what the adults he was taken from said, my Takeshi saw through the illusion that they used, and will recognise Shigure Kintoki - and I have counter-signs for the Cloud from his mother. But I'll let you lead, Cavallone. Just don't try and keep me from my son." There was a tiny burst of Mist Flames, as one of the man’s hands dipped back into his pocket, but as Mammon didn’t respond, he let it pass. "And Squalo, I will teach you Shigure Soen Ryuu on three conditions." He shook his head, amused at the way Squalo looked at that offer. "Don't encourage him, please. He self-mutilated to figure out his last serious opponent's fighting style."

His friend twitched; he’d been twitting Squalo about his choice to cut off his hand since he’d found out the full story. "Voooiii!”

"What else would you call chopping off your hand, Squalo?" Poking the Rain over his hand was far too much fun. "It worked, didn't it, shitty Horse." There was a snort from the direction of Tsuyoshi, and that redirected both him and Squalo from their banter and back to the matter at hand. "Voooiii. We'll negotiate later Autumn Rain, but we should catch up with our little band of escapees and check that no one is trying to capture them," Squalo waved a hand at the shallow pit, with its Sky Flame residue, "even if I doubt anyone other than them survived it."

"You might actually have earned that title of Strategy Captain, Squalo." His friend glares at him, and his Sun rolls his eyes, and he makes a gesture - Squalo leads off and he ambles behind him. He and Squalo take up their banter again, but with a more juvenile edge, trying to make it clear to any of the children who might have fallen behind, or be listening with Mist or Cloud or Sun enhancements that they were just teenagers and not a threat.

Mammon holds up a small hand, and he brings his Flames up to a ready state, to either claim the territory out from under the baby Sky, to prevent him using it against him, or to act defensively. Tsuyoshi has the sense to drop further back, though he can feel Mist Flames radiating from the sword on his back.

“You’ve done this before, Dino. And I’m loathe to have you do it now, but the last thing we want is for anyone else to stumble across this little group. Not with how damaged they are, and definitely not with how strong the Sky holding them in his Harmony are. He’s exhausted, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing with his Flames. Not really. So step into the territory and make it _yours_.” He swallows, and reaches, and claims it. Memories pour over him and he shoves them into a box as fast as he can, and then he’s in control and he can force the incredibly strong illusion _down_. He has to force his Flames to stay calm; Rage won’t help right now. Not with twelve battered and terrified looking pre-teens in front of him, three of whom have strong Cloud Flames, and are desperately trying to stay on their feet, and he’s grateful that Tsuyoshi had backed off; having one of the kids try to attack him is not going to help with what he needs to do. “Carefully, Dino.” Reborn jumps down off his shoulder, and retreats slightly.

He takes a careful step forward, and then another, and keeps his Flames calm and open, and concentrates on the absolutely tiny Sky at the centre of the group, who has the head of one of the Rains in his lap, and the oldest of the Clouds hovering over him. Most of the little group look at least vaguely Japanese, so he takes a chance, and tries Japanese first, rather than Italian, “I’m Dino.” The little Sky looks startled, and then looks up at the Cloud who nods.

“Tsu-kun is Tsu-kun. The bad men stole Tsu-kun, and Kyoya-san, and everyone else. Why should Tsu-kun trust you with Tsu-kun’s own?” He wants to coo at the tiny Sky, so young that he was still speaking in the third person, wants to keep him and those he’d claimed safe, and teach them how to stand on their own two feet.

“I found out about what the bad men were doing, Tsu-kun, and the reason we were here was because we wanted to stop them. We have stopped them elsewhere; this was the last base that we knew of.” The tiny Sky’s Flames are incredible; the breadth of his Sky, even as exhausted as the kid is mesmerizing.

The oldest of the Clouds flares his Flames at him, and he _wants_. Not on a sexually level, but he aches to include him within his Harmony; no Cloud of that age survives very long without a Sky to keep them from mischief - most try to take on people who were far too strong for them, in a bid to carve out their own territories - and he desperately wants to see what Kyoya will be like as an adult, grown into his full strength. “We rescued ourselves, herbivore.”

“And I respect that, Kyoya.” The Cloud growls, and he resists the temptation to laugh at the exhausted pre-teen; that would be a bad idea, but then he twitches in surprise as the pre-teen successfully forms some sort of baton weapon out of Mist Flames.

“No, Kyoya-san. Dino-nii isn’t a threat. Tsu-kun can _feel_ he isn’t a threat.” The Sky is so ridiculously cute, and he almost regrets the fact that the Cloud chooses to listens to the little one; that rarely happens unless they’re a long way into the process of bonding.

“And Kyoya, while most horses are herbivores, not _all_ are. And I’m _not_.” The Cloud’s eyes flash purple, and he’ll take that.

“I’ll be the judge of _that_ , herbivore.” The batons disappear back into the Mist Flames. “My mother is Hibari Mei-Lin, the Cloud of Japan; daughter of Fon, the Storm Arcobaleno. You _will_ contact her, _Haneuma_.” Reborn twitches beside him, and he’s amused to realise the Cloud has already figured out his nickname.

“You’re _Kasumi’s_ son?” The Cloud nods, sharply. “She and Lal Mirch are in contact. We can get news to her easily enough, Kyoya.”

Eventually he stands back up from his crouch, his Flames still firmly entwined with the tiny Sky’s, and turns, to face Squalo, who is radiating Rain Flames subtly, helping to keep the exhausted kids calm."Squalo, can you host them with the Varia? Your people are better equipped to defend themselves from any outbursts than mine are."

The Rain blinked, and turned to Mammon, and raises an eyebrow; the Mist sighs, and Squalo nods. "We can; they're used to Belphegor and they've adjusted to Chikusa and Ken." Mammon opens one of their passageways, and he notes the two Mist-Primary kids that looked like twins, watching the Arcobaleno carefully. “Give me a few minutes; I just need to warn off the 'adults'." The swordsman steps through, and then Mammon floats over to him, with the two curious little Mists following behind them.

“How did you -?” The question came from the slighter of the two.

“Mou. That will have to wait until you’re ready to be apprenticed, Nagi. It is a technique that could set you up for life, and I don’t teach it to just anyone.” The other Mist screwed up his fists, and did something, and there was a tiny rip, a miniature version of Mammon’s that closed almost immediately, the child wavering on his feet. “And that was the other reason, Mukuro. You’re both exhausted, and will need to build up to it.” Mammon squeaks when the one they’d addressed as Nagi dragged them into a hug, and glares at him over her shoulder.

He checks where Reborn is, to make sure the Sun isn’t creating chaos, and finds him working with the two Suns; Belphegor was speaking with the other male Cloud, and Tsuyoshi was still doing a fantastic job of concealing himself, though he could feel him at the edge of the territory. He sat down, cross-legged, and reached out a hand coated in Sky Flames to the tiny Sky who took it, and he carefully pulled the exhausted boy into a hug. “Let me help, Tsu-kun. You don’t have to shoulder the burden alone right now. I _know_ Kyoya has been helping, but let me help, too, please? My father and the other Dons made the choice to punish the men who were holding you and the others, but they only did it enough to make them angry and dangerous, and they hurt you, so now I need to make things right.” He felt the tiny boy relax in his arms, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t have held the area they were in against Tsu-kun if he’d been determined to take it from him to protect his little group from them.

When Squalo returns, Kyoya demands Tsu-kun from him, and cradles him in his arms, and follows Belphegor back through the portal without prompting - and the rest of the little group follows their Sky through the tear. It closes behind the group, and he tramps over to where Tsuyoshi is concealed, and when he touches the Rain, he jumps. “Yamamoto-san, the children are safe. Let us get you somewhere safe as well.” The Rain is so ridiculously exhausted that he wonders if he’s slept in the last month. “Squalo, can you take his blade?”

“Dino -”

“It’s draining his Flames, Squalo.” His friend hesitates, but then does. Tsuyoshi almost collapses with the sword removed, and he supports him back through the new rip that Mammon opens, and he hands Autumn Rain off to two of his men on the other side with an injunction to treat him kindly, and he and Squalo end up in one of the rooms, sprawled in chairs opposite each other.

“How did the Varia end up as a nursery, Dino?”

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, Dino is fifteen; Reborn has been with him for about two years, and he's just started administering some of the Cavallone territory as an 'underboss'.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Wrath has an Attraction All of it's Own](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11168997) by [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare)




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